


The Leader

by NervousOtaku (orphan_account)



Series: Tales of a 144 Player Fansession! [25]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Discussion of Leadership, Friendship, Grimdark, SBURB Fan Session, Void-y Powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 23:42:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11542878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/NervousOtaku
Summary: Or: Just Because I'm Pulling The Strings Behind The Stage, That Doesn't Make Me The Leader, But It Means I Know Who Is





	The Leader

Quince paused.

He didn't do anything.

Just waited.

Slowly, shuddering and convulsing, Pygmalion crept out of the shadows. The ginger gurgled unhappily, eyes rolling as his skin flushed and the dark aura receded.

“Sorry. I don't think there's really an off-switch.” Quince said gruffly.

Pygmalion shook his head, panting. He had it worse than Kevin, with the tentacle that crawled up through his throat. If he had really _swallowed_ part of one of those _freaks_...

“'S fine... 's fine...” the more delicate boy slurred. Quince didn't miss how he had yet to unequip the Dark Claws Of The Hellhound Miser, though. He supposed it was reasonable.

“Wh... where you goin'...?”

“To Typhon. Is it not my time?”

The Seer blinked a few times, then shrugged. “Sh'elf... self-fulfillment ain't very fulfillin', yanno...? Hurgh...”

That was as good as a yes. Quince had learned that unless Pygmalion explicitly _said_ no, you were fine. If the Seer of Doom said stay, you stayed. If he said duck, you ducked. Pygmalion could probably get away with telling the _entire Incipisphere_ to turn a triple-backflip and stick a splits on the landing, and everyone would obey out of fear of the doom elsewise. Not that Quince expected the guy to abuse his status like that. But anyone who could go chat it up with the Black Queen for two hours then walk out saying he'd hold her to that favor? That was powerful.

Turning to continue down the path, the Prince noted that the Seer was following him.

“Playing puppeteer with me, leader?” he asked.

“... Leader...?”

“Everyone knows how it works. Bob is the capital-L leader. He's the one sticking us together and pushing us forward. But then there's the _other_ leader working in the shadows, smoothing out bumps and running the show. It's _obviously_ you. You're the one who set up Kierra. You dove headfirst into death— twice— and then flew into the void to chat with the horrorterrors. You have the Black Queen under your thumb with a favor. You read a fucking Necronomicon like a cheap paperback romance-murder-mystery, for crying out loud!”

Pygmalion was quiet for a while.

They kept walking, heading for the nearest portal that would take them to Quince's house. From there, he'd head up to the seventh portal and go see his Denizen.

Halfway there, a monster attacked.

Groaning, Quince reached into his Strife Deck. Fights weren't even fun anymore. He was too strong now.

But before he could even pick out a hammer, Pygmalion had lunged forward, muttering something under his breath. The hand bearing the Dark Claws Of The Hellhound Miser stabbed into the monster, and Pygmalion jumped back. Rotting, skeletal hands shot out of the ground and latched onto the thing. It shrieked, trying to thrash, but failed to escape.

Quince looked away, waiting until the squelching and screaming had stopped.

“... Don' even drop grist... hardly worth th' kill...” Pygmalion muttered, looking pale to an unhealthy degree now.

“You should leave. I'm making you sick.” he advised with a frown. The guy was starting to slouch, hugging his gut. The horrorterror in Pygmalion's belly was not happy with being around him, and very clearly wanted to be elsewhere. In it's displeasure, it was rebelling against the Seer.

“... 'm not th' leader...”

“Huh?”

“Yer Choice's tough... pick careful, yeah...?”

“Hold on, you moron!”

Quince had grabbed onto Pygmalion as he snapped. The other boy's pained cry made him let go just as fast, backing up a few steps. Once he was sure the Seer was alright, he reiterated, “What do you _mean_ , you _aren't_ the leader?”

To his surprise, an impish look came into Pygmalion's eyes. He wondered if anyone else had ever seen such a look on him. It was... _odd_. Almost endearing. Horribly out of place on the taciturn, deadpan, grimdark boy.

“Like ya said... second leader... hangs in shadows... like a Void guy, huh...? Jus' like Shane...”

“Shane? Caitlin's boyfriend?”

“Bob's pal... an' mine... Goofball keeps e'ryone snick'rin'...” Pygmalion smiled.

It was so weird.

“Hey... when we win... ya'll kill it...?”

Quince frowned. “Kill it? Kill _what?”_

“'S thing... in m' gut...”

His eyes widened.

“Please... when we win...”

Nodding, Quince said, “Talk then. Get going before you die!”

Without another word, the Seer loped off into the maze of light bulbs, vanishing quickly in the darkness.

Quince stared after him, even long after the boy was good and gone.

“... Shane, huh.”

He mostly knew the Rogue through Mariam. A rather cheerful, bright guy who liked hanging out with others. Apparently he made good cupcakes, but Quince wasn't big on sweets.

 _That_ was their secondary leader?

... Or was Pygmalion being humble?


End file.
